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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24926200">A timely revelation</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/frosted_astronaut/pseuds/frosted_astronaut'>frosted_astronaut</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>1872 (Marvel), Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Getting Together, Jealous Steve, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:46:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,310</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24926200</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/frosted_astronaut/pseuds/frosted_astronaut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sheriff Rogers is in love with Tony Stark, the blacksmith. However, he denies it even in front of himself, until it's time for him to realize that he can't live in a lie forever.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Stony Loves Steve 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A timely revelation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainstars/gifts">captainstars</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my Stony Loves Steve 2020 Gift Exchange fill for captainstars. </p><p>Unfortunately, I didn't have as much time to write this story as I wanted, so it's shorter than I planned, but I hope the fic (and the moodboard) still turned out to be enjoyable.<br/>All of your prompts are so amazing, captainstars, so I might fill some more when RL stops getting in the way of writing so much. I already have full plots in my head, waiting to be written.</p><p>I'd like to say a huge thank you to Jenny and Luna for beta reading. It was a last minute call and they saved this story from the Grammar Monster.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
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</div><p> </p><p>Steve sat on the porch in his old, squeaky rocking chair, nursing a glass of water, imagining that it was alcohol. He never drinks when he’s on duty, but tonight he longed for its mind-numbing effect. His hands were shaking to the rhythm of the nightly song of the crickets. It was kind of hypnotizing. Slowly rocking in the chair while looking up at the dark infinitude that was brightened by stars from far, far away, it should have been peaceful. Like it was peaceful at all the previous nights. No matter what happened during the day, sitting here in silence eased his mind and heart into a precious quiet calmness. However, this did not happen tonight. Whatever he did, however he wanted to divert his thoughts, he was hopelessly stranded in the ugly present where he didn’t have a clue about what to do. And it made him angry. It frustrated him.  And worst, it made him doubt himself. It made him desperate to find answers to all the questions that were swirling through his troubled mind like snakes trying to insidiously slither up his legs to bite him. His thoughts held him fast him in their unbreakable shackles, like rattlesnakes hiding under the hot sand, ready to attack and put him down in a minute. If he let his mind unravel what happened earlier in the sheriff’s office, or more like in the jail, he wouldn’t stand up from this rocking chair the same man who fell into it after rushing through the heavy wooden door of his office. </p><p>He had kissed him. Just like that. Lips to lips. He could taste the deep smokiness of the whiskey on them. The kiss only lasted a moment, but it was the kind of moment that turns your whole world around and it makes you land backward, lost, asking questions you were never brave enough to ask before. Not even when you were alone in your bed, whispering it to the empty walls at night, because you just couldn’t let yourself fantasize about anything that would never be possible. You just can’t torture yourself. You can’t. You just make yourself believe that there’s nothing to fantasize about until it becomes the truth. That’s how you survive. That’s how you can be as happy as you can get. There’s no other way. And now Steve’s world has turned upside down, the ground pulled from under his feet, his truth is a lie and his fantasy may become his reality. And he had never been more scared as he is now, at the threshold of his dream.</p><p>It should be easy to say no and cling to the comfort of his lie. To say nothing and to say everything with it. That he’s a coward. A liar. Tony knows that. He knows <em> him </em>. Almost more than Bucky knew him. Bucky… He would be disappointed in him for not living his dream, for giving up even before it could have been started. Bucky was not like him, he was fearless in a way. Well, he must have been if he was brave enough to ask Natasha to marry him. Maybe it was silly of him, reckless, really, but he made his happiness. He lived his dream to the fullest right until Death called him away. Bucky wanted him to have the same happiness, but Steve wasn’t as brave when it came to his own life. He made being the sheriff of Timely his life, his only duty, repressing his dreams, his desires, and his thoughts until he forgot about them. Or Steve thought he forgot about them, because now they’ve risen once again from the muted darkness like a phoenix from its ashes. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>It was just that afternoon, just a few small hours ago, that Steve’s world twisted around on its axis.</p><p> </p><p>Sheriff Rogers was making his daily routine walk around the town before he turned in to the saloon to have a glass of cold water. He found Natasha there with Carol, and he joined them at their table to have a friendly chat about their day. However, it wasn’t long, before a familiar, deep voice caught his attention. He quickly turned in his chair, so he was able to see Tony taking a seat at the bar with a bulky, stern-faced man. He frowned. He knew that man. He was the sheriff from the next town. Logan. Steve didn’t know that Tony knew him, he had never talked about him, and it gave Steve an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He never liked the unexpected. With a last dark glance he turned back to the ladies, and he was met with two thoughtful gazes.</p><p>He was trying to keep his attention on the conversation with Natasha and Carol, but he kept shooting glances to the bar at his back. And then he saw the other sheriff lean in too close to Tony, and whisper something confidentially in his ear like they were sweet friends from childhood. It must have been a hell of a joke since a moment later Tony was laughing loudly with his head thrown back while grasping the other man’s shoulder with his right hand to keep his balance on the barstool. Hot jealousy flared in Steve. Tony never acted so freely with him, he never dared to. With him, Tony was always friendly only with his snarky and tempting words, never with his touches. And Steve never knew, never dared to admit to himself until then that he wanted more than the words.</p><p>After that, he couldn’t really pay attention to his conversation partners. His mind was swirling around... so many guilty thoughts. Then Steve heard something that made him seeth in anger in a moment. The two men were speaking confidentially, however, Steve had excellent hearing. Sheriff Logan was telling Tony that his town was in need of a blacksmith since the previous one had been killed by some bandits, and he was asking Tony to move there, to leave Timely, because he was the best in his profession, and Logan’s town needed someone like him. The glass in Steve’s hand made a cracking noise. Natasha tried to reach out to him, to put a calming hand on his shaking ones, but he didn’t let her, he didn’t want to be calm. </p><p>“He isn’t going anywhere,” interrupted Steve sternly from their table, turning toward the bar. “<em>This </em> town needs him.”</p><p>Tony was looking at him with a surprised frown while Steve was furiously staring at the other sheriff on Tony’s right side.</p><p>“The town,” asked Tony, but it was more like a statement with a bad taste than a question. He took a sip from his lukewarm whiskey. “How does it come that you always need everything for others, but never anything for yourself?” asked Tony thoughtfully with a resigned sigh. It was a question more to himself, but Steve heard it anyway, and he didn’t understand what Tony meant by it. Tony glanced back at Steve one last time, then asked for another round of whiskey from the bartender. And another one. And another one, and so it went until the late hours found Tony at the old piano in the corner, playing and singing an old love song. Tony has a deep, silky singing voice, his fingers were slowly running on the piano keys while he was never taking his glance away from Steve who was mesmerized by the tempting gaze. He didn’t even notice when Natasha and Carol left them alone. He could barely remember a small hand squeezing his shoulder a while ago and whispered words in the background that sounded like “talk to him”, but he wasn’t sure. He forgot about his sinful dream for a moment, he forgot about lying to himself and he just got lost in the smoky melody.</p><p>After a couple of more songs, Tony got louder, bolder, the tunes becoming chaotic and annoying to most patrons in the saloon who were shouting at him to stop it and shut up, or they’ll make him. And that was it.</p><p>“Make me,” Tony said flippantly, his fingers never stopping. </p><p>Steve was already on his way to stop the brawl that he knew was about to break out, but he was late by a step, he couldn’t reach Tony before the first fist was flying and Tony landed with a groan on his back. The corner of his mouth was bloody, and Steve saw red. He was the sheriff in town, he shouldn’t get in fights, not like this, but he just couldn’t control himself. He lost it when he saw the red on Tony. Red just like on the day of the bloody fight with Fisk, when his men almost succeeded in killing Tony. Steve made a vow to himself that he would never let anything happen to Tony while he sat next to Tony’s bed in the infirmary for five days, while the other man hovered between life and death. He could not lose Tony too, not after he already lost Bucky: his deputy, his friend, his brother. So he checked first if Tony was alright, made sure he hadn’t hit his head or got a concussion from the several hits that drunken bunch was able to get in, but when he saw that he was able to sit up and he was swaying slightly only because of the amount of whiskey he consumed during the afternoon and early night beforehand, he relaxed a bit and went back to take care of the situation.</p><p>The brawl had quickly escalated into a more violent fight with tables turning, glasses breaking, and faces bleeding, but with the help of Sheriff Logan, they were able to put a stop to it shortly and made everyone scram. After Steve made sure that no one would attack him with a wooden chair again, he turned around and hurried back to Tony, who was already standing with the help of the other sheriff. He got there in three quick steps.</p><p>“I can take him from here,” he said with a growl that made the man instantly take a step back from the blacksmith, holding his hands up. After a last icy glare, Steve slowly put Tony’s arm around his shoulder, he gripped Tony’s jacket in his fist at the other’s waist and started to lead him away from the scene. Tony grunted with almost every step. When they made it out onto the street and the crispy night air hit his face, Tony made a half turn while walking and leaned his head on Steve’s chest.</p><p>“My hero,” he muttered with a dreamy sigh into Steve’s slightly wet shirt.</p><p>“Don’t start,” said Steve, shaking his head, trying not to think too strongly about the strange feeling blooming in his chest from Tony’s act and closeness. “Come on, Tony,” he said as he kept walking toward the sheriff’s office. When they got there, he steered his friend toward his usual holding cell, the closest one to Steve’s desk. “It’s for your own safety. You need to sober up.” </p><p>Steve locked the cell door, and he was about to turn around to sit in the chair behind his desk, preparing to keep vigil for the night, when he felt a hand clasping around his wrist, preventing him from moving away. He looked down at the hand, the long fingers clasping his wide wrist, then slowly looked up into the eyes of the man behind the bars. Tony was looking back at him without blinking, head tilted to the left, eyes thoughtful, like he was looking for something in the depth of Steve’s blue ones. He was close. So very close that Steve could feel his warm breath on his face, making him suddenly feel lightheaded. It seemed like Tony sobered up from one moment to the next, his calculating eyes were gleaming in the dim light of the oil lamp, and Steve felt his world shaking.</p><p>“Why are you locking me up?” asked Tony while curling his free hand around one of the bars, his words slurring a little bit.</p><p>“I’ve just told you. It’s for your own safety,” said Steve, still not moving away.</p><p>“Hm. Is it? Or is it for the town?” He uttered <em> town </em>with a scornful tone. “Or is it maybe for you?,” asked Tony with a meaningful glance and with a squeeze on Steve’s wrist.</p><p>Steve gasped for air, slight tremors were running through his whole body. He couldn’t move, couldn’t utter a word, couldn’t take his eyes away from Tony who was even closer to him now, his face pushed between two cell bars, their noses almost touching.</p><p>It was barely a movement to have their lips touch the others.</p><p>And it was an eternal moment until Steve could move again, away from those condemning lips, away from those tempting brown eyes, away from those warm fingers and away from the truth. Away from his dream.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>This is how the cool night found him on the porch alone with his torturous thoughts and his doubts that were slowly dying with the approach of the sunrise.</p><p> </p><p>With a last glance at the purplish orange horizon, he stood with tired limbs and walked back into the quiet building. He walked right up to the bars, looking straight at the curled up figure on the bed, and took the key ring off of his belt. </p><p>“You are free to go,” said Steve, and Tony jerked his head up and glanced at him with an anxious look, already opening his mouth to say something. Steve, however, stopped him, holding a hand up, jiggling the keys with it. He waited until Tony hesitantly met his gaze, then took a deep breath and continued: “But I would like you to lock your freedom to me.”</p>
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